Batgirl Begins
by BleachedBella
Summary: Based on Nolan-verse/Batgirl of Burnside/Arkham Game Series I bring you the story of Batgirl! Please review! Yes, this story will feature the villains and some joker!
_*So my knowledge of the Batman universe extends to Christopher Nolan's and the Arkham Video games as well as the Batgirl of Burnside graphic novel. This is my take on the story of how Batgirl came to be. You'll see references to Nolan's universe, Arkham's universe and Burnside universe. This is my story-line that stays pretty true to canon. I hope you will enjoy!*_

 _Chapter One_

 _Goodbye, Dick Grayson_

"I bet you can't go higher, Babs!" Dick Grayson teased, swinging lithely from the branch of the Magnolia tree.

Barbara Gordon jutted her chin out and climbed a limb higher. Though the two were only ten feet off the ground the height felt as though they were atop the summit of a mountain. One of the many remunerations of being a ten year old was the way the simplest things seemed so much more fantastical. A box could become an entire house and a bike could be a space shuttle. Perhaps that was why Barbara Gordon refused to look down.

"See! I did it!" insisted Barbara, sticking out her tongue at Dick.

Dick smirked, his dark hair hanging in his eyes. A mischievous look crossed his face and he hoisted himself up another limb and flipped around it before sitting on it with ease. He folded his arms casually and gazed down at her arrogantly.

"Try that."

"You know I can't do that kind of stuff! I'll break my arm if I try!"

"Probably. After all, only Flying Graysons can do those kinds of tricks. Not girls," he snickered.

Barbara cast a glare at him, her blue eyes seething. She did not like to be challenged and Dick Grayson being her best friend knew exactly how to push her buttons. Dick delighted in the flush of anger that would paint her cheeks when he would tease her. The way she would try to top whatever feats he accomplished no matter how impossible they would be. Then Barbara would fail and begrudgingly ask him to teach her how to do what he did.

He loved teaching her how to do physical exploits. After all, she was so much smarter than him and nine times out of ten he would say something stupid that would make her laugh. She would proceed to correct him and then Dick would feel like an idiot. Physically, he was superior and he liked that. Dick had taught her how to do a cartwheel once. A talent she flaunted frequently now.

"Girls can do anything boys can do," protested Barbara, her mouth shrinking in anger.

A wicked grin appeared on Dick's face and he stood up on the branch, now about three feet higher than Barbara. Intrigued by his expression, she carefully climbed a bit higher. Walking with ease along the durable wood of the branch, he gazed down at the trampoline that inhabited the Gordon's backyard. Barbara followed his eyes and felt a shiver of apprehension go down her spine.

"The Flying Graysons, Babs, are very brave. They're willing to risk their lives just to entertain-"

"Well, when you say that you sound stupid," Barbara said pointedly.

Dick glowered at her until an amused smile broke out on her face. The corner of his lip quirked up then quickly flattened as his austere expression returned.

"As I was saying, the Flying Graysons are very brave. We can do almost anything. Legend has it that the first Grayson trapeze artist was secretly able to actually fly."

Barbara fought off a look of mocking in exchange for feigned interest. Dick often made up tales about how the first Flying Graysons were magic. Endeavors she saw as him attempting to make her jealous, when they were actually meant to impress her.

"I, myself, cannot fly. But I can fake it really well."

Barbara would never admit it, but he was right. Though she pretended not to be impressed by his acrobatics she found herself enraptured by every flip and backhand-spring he performed.

"Prove it," she urged.

"Oh, I will. I'm going to jump from this branch…to that trampoline…then flip and land on my feet," he said in grand voice.

Barbara's jaw fell open and her eyes widened. Dick felt his heart swell with pride at the thought of impressing her. He walked to the end of the branch and looked down at the trampoline beneath him. Barbara shuddered. Her mother was just inside. Did she see what was happening? Would she be mad if Barbara did this?

She suddenly found herself worried for Dick. What if he got hurt? Dick grinned.

"Wish me luck!"

"Wait!" Barbara yelled.

But it was too late. Dick spread his arms out and jumped off the branch, his feet heading straight down towards the trampoline. He sprang up about four feet and flipped just as he had said then landed nimbly on his feet, still bouncing just slightly. He turned and looked up at Barbara who still lurked in the branches of the tree.

"You gonna give it a shot, Babs?" he pressed.

Barbara bit her lower lip and looked at the window of her one story house, she could see her mother inside setting the table for lunch. Her father's cruiser was not in the driveway but he would be home any minute.

"C'mon, Babs! All it is, is falling and bouncing! You don't even have to flip!"

He paused while Barbara continued to stare down at the trampoline in trepidation.

"Don't be a chicken, Babs! C'mon, I bet a cop would do it!"

And that did it. Dick knew Barbara aspired to be a police officer someday just like her father and whenever he found it difficult to persuade her to do as he wished, he would pull out the 'a cop would do it' card.

With determination in her eyes she climbed higher up, to the branch where Dick had been standing on. Her chest tightened as she became more and more aware of how high up she was. It was time to jump onto the trampoline.

' _All it is, is falling and bouncing!'_

Dick's words of encouragement echoed in her mind. She walked to the edge of the branch and peered down at the trampoline. It seemed so much farther down. Barbara trembled and Dick found himself frowning at her terrified expression.

"Oh, Babs, forget about it. Really, it's okay! Just climb down and we can work on your somersault!" he offered kindly.

She didn't care though. All Barbara cared about was telling her father what she had done when he got home. He would be so impressed with her. She bent her knees preparing to spring upwards then found herself overwhelmingly dizzy, her chest constricting. The depth of her surroundings seemed off. She couldn't maintain her balance. Not well.

"Barbara? Barbara?"

Barbara tried to grab a branch to her left to steady herself, but missed it. Her depth perception way off.

"Barb!" Dick cried.

Barbara fell sideways, off the tree and landed stomach first on the branch below her. Unable to move from the pain of air being trapped in her chest, she rolled off the branch and landed on her back on the ground. Now trying to breathe was even worse.

Unfamiliar wheezing noises escaped her mouth as she gasped for air.

Dick threw himself off the trampoline and knelt at her side. The first thing that came to mind was that she was dying.

"Barbara! Barbara! Babs, can you hear me?" he yelled frantically.

Barbara's fists balled up and she grunted, pushing air from her lungs.

"Dick? Barbara?" Mrs. Gordon called, running out the back door of the house.

Dick looked up at her, teary eyed.

"She fell. She fell from the tree and now she's having trouble breathing," he explained in a trembling voice.

Barbara's chest heaved up and down as she sucked in shallow breaths.

"Oh, Barbara. Barbara?" Mrs. Gordon yelled, holding her daughter's shoulders.

Barbara didn't answer. She writhed and gasped as her mother pulled her into her lap. Dick watched, frozen with fear.

 _'It's all my fault!'_ Dick thought.

The sound of crunching gravel alerted both Mrs. Gordon and Dick. Her husband was home. There was the familiar click of the cruiser door opening.

"Jim! JIM, GET OVER HERE! It's Barbara!" Mrs. Gordon called out.

Confused, Captain James Gordon jogged over to the trampoline where Dick Grayson cried and his wife sat with his daughter's head in her lap.

"She fell from the tree," whimpered Mrs. Gordon. "M-maybe it just knocked the wind out of her."

Jim shook his head at his wife's hopeful tone. He knelt beside Barbara and scooped her up in his arms. She was still gasping for air. Knowing that there was no time to waste, he sprinted to the cruiser and placed Barbara in the passenger seat. Mrs. Gordon clambered into the hard, plastic backseat where Gotham's filth normally resided, buckling in Dick and herself.

"Keep breathing, Barbara. I know it's hard but do your best to keep breathing," Jim said turning on his sirens and lights.

Barbara could just barely understand him through the ringing in her ears and continued to pull in wheezing breaths. Dick bit his fingernails in the backseat, feeling incredibly guilty while Mrs. Gordon leaned forward, her fingers looped through the cage holes that separated the backseat from the front seat.

"Jim, what's happened to her?"

"I could be wrong," Jim began reversing like lightening out of the driveway. "But it looks like an asthma attack."

He tried to maintain an even tone. He knew his wife well enough that he could tell that if he lost his cool, she would too.

"Barbara doesn't have asthma!" protested Mrs. Gordon.

The wheels of the car screeched as Jim sped faster down the road and around the corner.

"We'll see," he mumbled.

Remembering something she had read about asthma attacks, Mrs. Gordon was able to recall some knowledge as to ways to aid the afflicted. She counted to ten rhythmically, trying to assist Barbara in maintaining a somewhat steady pace of breathing. It barely helped, but some help was better than none.

Eventually, they arrived at Gotham General where Barbara was rushed into the ER then immediately tended to by a doctor. An oxygen mask was slipped over her face and Mrs. Gordon could not contain herself any longer. She sobbed into her husband's chest who held her close to him. Dick sat in a chair beside her bed, his eyes pink from tears. The two red braids that had framed Barbara's face earlier looked like frayed, tangled ropes and her freckled face was practically grey. He couldn't stop blaming himself for the incident.

The Doctor returned and beckoned Captain Gordon and his wife to step outside the curtain, leaving Dick in the unconscious presence of Barbara.

"I'm sorry, Babs," he whimpered. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his shirt and jumped at the sudden cry that sounded from where the Gordon's stood. Dick slid out of his chair and crept over to the curtain, eavesdropping.

"But Barbara has never had asthma! Maybe allergies, but not asthma," Mrs. Gordon pleaded.

"Mrs. Gordon, asthma can appear at any age," the Doctor explained. "But this case is mild as long as it's contained."

"What can we do?" Captain Gordon asked.

"I'll bring in a consultant. Probably just give you some advice on how to manage her heart rate, an inhaler, maybe some low degree heart medication to assist her. I've seen much worse cases."

"What about head trauma? She did fall from a tree," Mrs. Gordon added in a hurried voice.

"No. Kids fall all day long and bump their heads. From what I gather it wasn't that great of a height."

Silence lingered and Dick wandered back to the chair beside Barbara. He pretended she was sleeping rather than unconscious. He didn't know Barbara had asthma. Apparently no one did. Would she be embarrassed? Barbara hated appearing weak. Well, weaker than her peers. Asthma wouldn't help that situation.

The sound of metal rings scraping across a curtain rod sounded and Mr. and Mrs. Gordon returned to their daughter's bedside. Mrs. Gordon pulled a chair up so she could hold her daughter's limp hand while Jim stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder. His eyes flickered over to Dick who sat with his head down.

"Dick? You alright, son?" asked Gordon in a quiet voice.

Slowly, Dick looked up, eyes glistening with tears.

"This is my fault. I made her jump. I told her she should," he replied softly.

Mrs. Gordon's eyes darted over to Dick, but the expression they held wasn't what he had expected. There was no anger in her eyes. Not a bit. Instead there was compassion.

"No, Dick. No," Mrs. Gordon said in a firm, but kind tone. "She didn't have to jump. She chose too. Don't trouble yourself."

"Yeah, Dick. Barbara is gonna be fine. This was going to happen no matter what," shrugged Jim.

He walked over to where Dick sat, crying and knelt in front of him.

"Don't blame yourself, Dick. You're children. Children do things they shouldn't and they learn from them. Maybe now you won't try and pressure Barbara into doing things she doesn't want to and Barbara will learn not to push her limits when you both play."

Dick nodded, blinking away tears. Jim rubbed his shoulders, comfortingly.

"Hey," Jim said, getting Dick to meet his gaze. "It's alright. Nobody is mad."

"My parents are gonna be angry," he insisted.

Mrs. Gordon shook her head, smiling slightly.

"No, darling. Trust me. I'll handle it all."

Something twisted in Dick's stomach. Were Mr. and Mrs. Gordon going to cover for him? That didn't feel right. Sure, he would love not to get in trouble, but deep down he would always know what he did was wrong. Dick would know that he'd never received proper punishment for what he'd done to Barb. For the pain he had caused her. Dick owed Barbara and the only way he could pay her back was to take his punishment.

After being under observation the entire night,

Barbara was finally released from the hospital with an inhaler and a prescription for heart medication. Captain Gordon had drove back home briefly to trade his cruiser for their minivan making it easier for the four to cram inside.

Barbara sat by Dick in the backseat. His expression was one of guilt and sorrow. Barbara couldn't understand why.

"Dick? What's wrong?" Barbara whispered.

Dick refused to look at her. How could she not be angry with him?

"Nothing, Barbara I'm just tired."

Barbara frowned.

"I'm sorry you had to stay in the hospital all night. Was that bed really uncomfortable?" she inquired.

Dick shook his head.

"I slept fine," he lied.

The truth was, he had barely slept at all. The boy had tossed and turned all night thinking of various ways to explain to his family what he had done. Well, what he thought he had done.

"Wanna go on the trampoline when we get home? We can work on my flip!" suggested Barbara.

Something lifted in Dick's heart. Barbara wasn't angry and she still wanted to play with him? Before he could respond Mrs. Gordon interrupted. She turned around in her seat up front and looked at the two with a kind, but sad expression.

"Actually, Barbara, Doctor Draper thinks it's best if you rest today. Maybe tomorrow though."

Dick pursed his lips, fighting off a frown, but Barbara seemed almost hopeful.

"That sounds fine. We could watch movies today, Dick. Those cartoons you showed me?"

Dick shrugged with a noncommittal nod. He almost wished that Barbara was angry with him. That way he could at least feel like he had been punished. Though still a child, Dick Grayson had an extreme amount of compassion and an avid ability to blame himself for things that weren't his fault. His snarky comments and teasing may have made that difficult to believe, but at his core he was still a child with a big heart.

That night after Dick had fallen asleep, Mr. and Mrs. Gordon tucked their daughter into bed. Her eyes were blank and her face pale.

"Barbara? What's wrong, dear?" Mrs. Gordon asked sitting at the foot of her daughter's bed.

"Why won't Dick play with me?"

"I think he feels bad that you fell out of the tree, honey," she replied.

A confused look crossed their daughter's face.

"It wasn't his fault though."

Jim joined his wife on the opposite side of the bed and placed a hand on his daughter's leg.

"Sometimes we feel bad for things that aren't our fault, Barbara."

"That doesn't make sense, dad."

"Well, why do you think he's not playing with you sweetheart?" Mrs. Gordon asked with a small smile.

Barbara's eyes watered and she hugged the blanket in her arms tighter to her chest.

"Because he...because he thinks I'm not fun to play with anymore. Because I'm not as strong as him..." she mumbled.

Mrs. Gordon's brows furrowed and she looked to her husband.

"No, Barbara. You're just as strong as him. Okay? Don't ever think you aren't," Jim said with a firm look.

"But-but the doctor said I needed to be more careful. That I couldn't take chances and need to take medicine and use the inhaler. Maybe Dick thinks I'm no fun because I'm weaker."

"Barbara Gordon, look at me," Mrs. Gordon said.

Barbara begrudgingly turned her teary eyes to her mom.

"You are not weak. Do you understand? Asthma does not make you weak. It doesn't define you," she said forcefully.

Barbara nodded into her pillow.

"Besides, Barbara, you have a very mild case. You just need to be careful for a few days. This kind of asthma is very easy to manage. You just take a few pills and use your inhaler if you get out of breath."

"Which will be very rare," Mrs. Gordon added pointedly.

"Right, and the Doctor said that even if you get short of breath you may not need to use an inhaler. Remember? He said that sometimes it's enough to slow down and take deep calming breaths."

She nodded again, the tears slowly subsiding.

"So let's not feel bad? Okay? Let's be happy. It's almost as though nothing has changed. The inhaler is just for emergencies and the pills are just a precaution."

"You may never have an asthma attack, actually," shrugged Mr. Gordon.

Mrs. Gordon leaned forward and kissed her daughter's forehead gently.

"Give Dick a few days. He'll come around," Jim said also kissing Barbara.

They tucked Barbara in and turned off her light, holding hands the whole time. That talk had actually made them both feel better. They hadn't lied to Barbara. Perhaps this whole asthma ordeal would not affect them at all. They just had to be careful.

Barbara fell asleep to the sound of her parent's muffled giggles from the next room that reassured her that things were going to be alright. That made her believe that maybe everything was okay.

Later that week, the Graysons called from Chicago to check up on their son. They only had two more weeks on their tour. Mrs. Gordon told them the events that had transpired, carefully leaving out Dick's role in the ordeal. However, when it was his turn to speak with his parents, Dick confessed that he had pressured Barbara into the impulsive act.

Feeling guilty that their son's presence caused much grief to the Gordon family-who had done them so many favors in the past with watching Dick while they did shows or helping approve city permits so they could perform-the Graysons announced they would be picking up Dick the next week and he would be on the road with them from then on out.

'It's time he learned to perform for crowds anyway,' Mrs. Grayson had explained. 'And you've all done more than enough.'

Mrs. Gordon tried many excuses so Dick could stay. She knew how much Barbara and Dick loved each other and after years of watching him grow, Mrs. Gordon was fond of the boy. She made cases to the Graysons about school and social stability, finally resorting to how much they loved having him around but the answer was still no. They were coming for Dick.

Dick and Barbara bounced on the trampoline his last day. She was determined to perfect the somersault he taught her. Each time she ended up on her backside. She wanted to end standing.

"Tuck your knees more. You'll flip faster and that'll give you more time to focus on extending your feet," suggested Dick, lazily bouncing on the far end.

Barbara jumped up and down, the trampoline groaning after many years of trapeze practice.

"Remember to raise the arms up and down to help your momentum. Bounce up with your knees but land and go up on the balls of your feet," he instructed.

Barbara kept trying to flip but to no avail. She came close, landing flat on her heels but then toppling over backwards. Much to her regret, the Graysons arrived right at two o'clock. Exactly when they said they would. Dick slid off the trampoline, sighing loudly.

"Dick?" called Barbara.

He looked over his shoulder, his dark hair falling in his eyes.

"What?"

"You...you need to help me finish this flip. You shouldn't go until you do," stated Barbara.

Dick laughed quietly and shook his head.

"Maybe next time, Babs."

Then he loaded up in his family's van with his older brothers, older sister and parents. Barbara stood in the gravelly driveway and watched the car disappear from sight. She kicked at the loose rocks on the ground before her, eyes downcast.

Mr. and Mrs. Gordon watched sadly from the kitchen window.

Barbara turned away from the driveway and climbed back onto the trampoline. She didn't jump or play though. Instead she just sat, staring at her hands. All she could think was "what'd I do to make him leave?" After all, Dick Grayson was her best friend and though he had promised to return soon, deep down Barbara knew it was a lie to make her feel better. She was too smart. That's what everyone said. Barbara sighed loudly and fiddled with the end of one of her braids. She allowed one tear to escape, wiping it away before it could reach her chin.

 _'I'm gonna learn to do that flip. Then when Dick gets back he'll be so impressed he won't wanna leave,'_ Barbara thought jumping to her feet.

Barbara Gordon flipped and flipped all day. She never came close to landing on anything but her backside. She didn't stop though. Not until Mrs. Gordon pulled her in for dinner. She would learn to flip for Dick. She had too.

 _ **"Now approaching the Jackson Stop. Doors open on the left at Jackson..."**_

Barbara awoke from the daunting memory of her first asthma attack and Dick Grayson's departure with a start. This was her stop on the subway. She quickly gathered her purse and leapt to her feet.

"Doors closing..." the robotic voice of the public transit system announced.

Barbara jumped sideways out of the closing doors, barely making it out. She exhaled. As usual, she took a moment to thank her lungs for being stronger. It had taken until she was eighteen for her to learn to control her breathing with limited inhaler use and only one pill a day for heart management. Back when she was thirteen, leaping to her feet and narrowly escaping the closing doors of a subway would have made her short of breath. She would have had to sit down for a little over thirty seconds to regain her breath.

At twenty one, Barbara had learned various exercises to maintain steady breathing and hardly ever had to take out an inhaler. Usually, it was just the pill she took absentmindedly every night. The inhaler was only used for...certain circumstances.

Barbara secured the strap of her purse, firmly on her shoulder and started for the downstairs exit of the subway. The sky above was dark and though the stars were invisible, the moon was shining bright.

She walked down the loud metal steps and out onto the desolate street where three men stood, drinking by the stoop outside of what she assumed was their apartment. Pursing her lips she braced herself for the catcalls. Barbara was used to them. Being a perfect hourglass of aredhead with a pretty face made it inevitable for her not to be called out. She continued past them on the sidewalk, the heels of her ankle boots 'clacking loudly.'

Barbara walked past the three men, holding her breath.

"Hi, there..." a shorter one said, nodding to her.

Barbara kept her eyes forward, telling herself to just get home.

"Where are you going?" one in a beanie added.

Barbara exhaled and fought off the urge to yell at them to buzz off. That would lead to no good.

"Don't leave!" whined one of the guys she couldn't see.

She kept walking. Finally a block away from them. Barbara neared her apartment, just two blocks more. Then she saw something suspicious. In the alley just ahead there was a shadow protruding. Three shadows. She slowed her stride. Could it be those men? Could they really have gotten ahead of her?

 _'Highland to Cleaver to Greenview. That would put them at this alley right now if they left right after I was out of their line of vision,_ ' Barbara thought.

As she got closer to the alley, Barbara prepared herself for some sort of confrontation. She would either scare them off by threatening them, remove her pepper spray or...do the thing she needed her inhaler for. The choice was theirs in the end.

*Want to see what their choice was? Review please!*


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